


Show-Off

by spuffyduds



Category: Hard Core Logo (1996)
Genre: 1000-3000 words, Dark, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-24
Updated: 2010-01-24
Packaged: 2017-10-06 16:09:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spuffyduds/pseuds/spuffyduds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>All kinds of skeeviness going on in this one. Set pre-movie, in the early touring years.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Show-Off

**Author's Note:**

> All kinds of skeeviness going on in this one. Set pre-movie, in the early touring years.

There's a girl in the front row who has a great ass and knows it--when she spins around dancing she looks back up at Billy over her shoulder, gives it a little extra wiggle and grins. Billy grins back. He comes to the edge of the stage so she's looking straight up at him, and she reaches a hand up, gets it around his ankle. He gets a little hip-thrustier than usual while he's playing. She tightens her hand and he winks down at her, and then Joe grabs his arm hard and hauls him over to the mike for some back-up on the chorus.

By the time Billy shakes free at the end of the song and gets back to his side of the stage he can't find her; it's a rowdy-as-usual crowd tonight, probably she got shoved further back by one of the gigantic guys who's in her spot now. Fuck.

After the show he hangs out near the entrance to backstage, scopes out the alley behind the club too, but she never shows. All the girls who _do_ show up to party are on the bony side for Billy, more Joe's type. (John's on a fidelity-to-the-girlfriend kick this month, and Pipe never has any trouble getting play because his type is "not dead.")

"Thanks a fuck of a lot," he says to Joe, and Joe grins at him over the head of the scrawny girl who's licking his chest, toasts him with his beer bottle with one hand and flips him off with the other.

Billy leaves the party early and walks alone to the crappy band house. He jerks off angrily in the bathroom, then, since none of the other guys are back yet, figures fuck'em and takes the only bed with a full set of sheets and blankets. The others all have bare mattresses or sleeping bags, except the one that has a vinyl tablecloth. Jesus.

He strips to boxers and drifts off pretty quickly, and it feels like hours later when he jerks awake because the bed is dipping under somebody's weight.

"S'me," Joe says, and Billy makes a complainy noise--he's still too asleep to talk--but he rolls over and gives Joe some room.

Joe doesn't seem too interested in going to sleep, though--he gets an arm under Billy's neck and starts sucking on his ear.

Billy moans, cock stirring, and makes an effort to haul himself back up to consciousness a little more. Because dealing with Joe, he really needs a few brain cells firing.

"What, did the chest-licker bail on you?" he says, not because he cares but because he needs to hear Joe talk a little more.

"Nah, she was up for _any_thing," Joe says, smugly. And Billy relaxes a little because, hearing a full sentence from him, he can tell that Joe's only moderately drunk. Not in that state where he has no fucking idea how strong he is, which never works out well.

Billy relaxes into it, lets Joe suck and bite down his neck, his shoulders.

Joe reaches over and clicks on the lamp that's on the metal folding chair by the bed.

"The fuck?" Billy says, throwing his arm up over his eyes.

"Wanna see you," Joe says, and Billy slides his arm down and looks at him suspiciously.

"Just 'cause you're so _pretty_," Joe says, and gives him a toothy sneer, but Billy stays a little tensed up because something in Joe's glittery eyes says he's gonna try something new. Sometimes that's great and sometimes it really isn't, and so far whenever it wasn't Billy's been able to talk him into stopping. But it took a while.

But then Joe pulls handcuffs out of his pocket and dangles them in front of Billy's face. That's--not all the _time_ but it's not new either, so Billy shrugs, stretches his arms up above his head until his wrists hit the metal bedframe.

"You are so fuckin' easy," Joe says. He leans down and gives Billy a long beer-flavored kiss, sloppy and pushy, and Billy can't help thrusting up against Joe's jeans a little bit.

Joe laughs into his mouth and cuffs him.

And then he's really weirdly--_generous_. Usually he's pretty good about doing things Billy wants, yeah, but while he's doing it he'll be jacking himself off, or rutting up against Billy's leg, or he'll grab Billy's hand and put it on his own cock.

Now, though, all his clothes stay on, even his fucking boots. And he's not touching himself, not making Billy touch him. He's just kissing and nibbling all over Billy's chest while he pulls the covers off Billy, slides Billy's boxer shorts down.

And then Billy's totally stripped and Joe kneels up and just looks at him for a minute. Joe's jeans aren't even unzipped--he's rocking his hips a little like he can't help it, but not rubbing up against Billy or the mattress, just rocking into empty air while he reaches out, gets his hand on Billy's cock, squeezes and moans. And fuck, that's weird and different and confusingly _sweet_ or something, and really fucking hot. Billy raises his head up between his cuffed arms, looks down at all his skin, Joe's hand tight and moving.

Billy shudders and groans and arches up into Joe's hand.

"Yeah," Joe says, and bends down, nips all over Billy's stomach. That tickles and gives Billy the shivers, and when he arches up now he's rubbing his cock against Joe's t-shirt, his chest, good good good.

"Nuh-uh," Joe says, and shifts away, but almost immediately bends back down and starts sucking. Cups Billy's balls in one hand and sucks him down _hard_.

"Fuck, oh fuck fuck _yes_," Billy gasps, that's so good, and Joe's mouth is hot and pulling tight around him and Billy can't help yanking mindlessly at the cuffs, that's gonna hurt tomorrow but fuck it, fuck, and Joe groans and that sends a hot thrum through Billy's cock. Jesus, maybe Joe's going to come in his jeans here, that would be so hot, that--

Joe pulls his mouth off and Billy whimpers, but the next second Joe's shoving fingers into him. _Slicked_ fingers, when did he--doesn't matter. Billy tightens up for a second in sheer surprise, and that hurts, but then he takes a deep breath and lets his thighs fall open, relaxes, and Joe knows just how to, how fast and where, and _god_ that's good.

Billy's babbling some of this out loud now, can't help it, "Joe yeah that's, that's, _there_, yeah, god, love that, love--"

Joe gives him a sharky smile. "You wanna come, Billiam?"

"Oh Jesus yes," Billy says. He can't stop moving, pushing against Joe's fingers, rolling his head side to side between his arms. Jesus, _yes_.

"You wanna beg?"

"Please," Billy says, instantly; maybe Joe was wanting some long-drawn out game here but Billy can't, just can't, not with Joe's fingers nudging into him over and over and perfect and perfect, Billy's begging, he's got no problem with begging.

Joe smiles bigger and slows his fingers down, fuck, Billy was so close, any second now, fuck, _please_...

Joe leans over, says quiet in Billy's ear, "You like showing off for the groupies, you little cunt?" but he's still moving his fingers, slow, and he's not making any _sense_, Billy can't _think_, what?

"What are you, ahhhh, what are you _talking_ about, Joe, _please_," he says.

Joe stetches out beside him, keeps his fingers moving and nips at Billy's earlobe, and Billy's gotten to that point where all his skin everywhere is so sensitive that just that little bite sends a flare down his spine, almost puts him over, but...not quite.

"Edge of the stage," Joe whispers in his ear, and Billy shudders. "She got a hand on you, you were practically fucking the guitar, she looked like she was gonna come just from watching you, you like that?" he whispers, and then licks into Billy's ear.

Billy gasps, says, "Yes," he likes the tongue, he likes the watching, both, he doesn't know what he means.

Joe sits back up abruptly. He keeps his fingers moving but swivels around and says into the dark, "_You_ like?"

And someone steps out of the darkness of the corner into the lamplight, what the _fuck_, it's the girl Joe was with at the afterparty.

"Yeah," she says, and takes a long up-and-down look at Billy.

Billy tries to yank himself away from her, from Joe, from the bed and the bandhouse and the whole fucking tour, but he's pinned there with the cuffs on and Joe's fingers up his ass, pinned and naked, everybody else is dressed and she'll talk, they always talk, people are going to be calling him a faggot the whole tour, all across the country, and Jesus she heard the begging, what _else_ did he say?

He closes his eyes, tries to squirm up the bed away from Joe's fingers but he can't and they won't _stop_, and Joe suddenly leans down again and sucks his cock hard and fast and perfect, speeds up his fingers inside, and Billy can't help it, he's coming.

He's usually loud when he comes, yelling _fuck_ or _yeah_ or sometimes _Joe_, but now he bites the inside of his lip, tastes blood and stays quiet, not giving Joe or the girl another damn thing.

He keeps his eyes closed when he's done. Joe stops sucking, sits up, pulls his fingers out, and claps slowly.

"Encore," he says.

Billy's burning up all over, a humiliated flush that's so heated it almost itches. He opens his eyes and stares at Joe, says, "Show's over." He meant it to come out loud and angry but he doesn't seem to have the energy for that, it's a trashed tired whisper.

Joe blinks at him, and when the girl says, "Hey, can I get in the middle?" Joe snarls, "Get the _fuck_ out."

"Okay," she says, "I'll just watch some more, that's fine, I--"

"I'm serious. Get the fuck out of here. Now."

She makes huffy noises and stomps out.

Bily lets his head loll sideways and stares silently at the wall while Joe uncuffs him. He yanks his sore wrists away when Joe tries to rub them. He rolls away to face the wall and curls his knees up toward his chest.

He'd like to have clothes on, but getting up to get them sounds impossibly exhausting.

Joe pulls the covers back up over Billy and doesn't try to get under with him, just lies next to him, still fully dressed.

"You okay?" Joe says, and runs just his fingertips softly through Billy's hair.

Billy flinches and says, "Leave me alone," but he knows when he says it that that's the one thing Joe can't ever manage to do, and after a while he drifts back off with Joe still touching him.

 

\--END--


End file.
